Hideous Homicides Part One
by Mark Swarbrick
Summary: In this first of the series, Hideous Homicides brings you a tale of a gruesome killing complete with a twist in the tale and a moral in the story. For Paul Turner, a regular guy, his world was to become a terrible traumatic ordeal.


**Hideous Homicides Part 1**

**When his eyes finally opened the foggy feeling slowly began to dissipate. What his eyes could see could not register in his brain. What was happening? Where was he? Was this a dream? This was no dream, it was a nightmare however he was now very wide awake. He had no idea where he was but had an inclining what was happening. In the doorway he could now see a person stood before him, a man dressed all in black and wearing a garish clown mask.**

The day had begun very normally. He awoke at 7.15 and had a shower. Then he had a wash and a shave and did his hair in the mirror. A quick squirt of his favourite Cacherel aftershave and deodorant he was ready to get dressed. 8.00am and he was out of the door and about to make the short journey to work. He only lived 20 minutes walk away so did not bother to take his car, it was much cheaper to walk and save money on petrol seeing as how expensive it was these days. The weather was fine and dry with no sign of rain thankfully. He got to the main road and cut across the supermarket car park then walked up Cedar Tree Lane. His hand reached into his pocket and he put on his MP3 headphones and selected an album to listen to. This made the walk more enjoyable and helped put him in a good mood listening to his favourite songs.

Upon reaching the now closed DIY superstore he headed down the alleyway. The DIY store had been the victim of the economic crisis and like a number of national chains it had gone bust. The huge building was now empty and huge concrete blocks barred the way from any cars entering the car park area. The car park was now littered with patches of weeds and bits of rubble strewn around. There was a huge board on the side of the building stating it was up for let. Three years had passed since the place had closed down and nobody had taken it on. The alley way was a useful short cut he used every day. This shaved a good ten minutes off how long it would take for him to walk to work and was very handy. The volume of his music on his MP3 player disguised any sound of the person who was now creeping behind him. One moment he was walking to work on what would be just a normal run of the mill day. He did not see nor hear the bat that was swinging to the back of his neck. He certainly felt the instant shock of sheer pain and surprise as the bat was cracked down hard. In an instant he slumped to the floor out cold.

He stared at the clown masked man. The back of his neck ached and the pain ran right across his shoulder blades. He had also become totally aware of the situation he was in. It defied belief. He was naked with his legs chained together and also his arms were chained and bolted to the rear of his seat. In vain he tried to move but neither his legs or arms could be shifted and he was unable to lift himself up from his seated position. This was bad enough however he was not bound to a chair, he was bound to a toilet and could hear something splashing about in the toilet bowl below his nakedness.

"What the fuck is this?" he uttered, again trying to move.

The masked clown man spoke.

"This is your last day on Earth." this was followed by sinister laughter.

"Just let me go for gods sake." the man replied desperately.

"I am going to let you go. You are not free to go but go nevertheless you shall." the masked man said.

"Look, is this some sick shit joke or something?"

"No Paul. This is not a joke but it is very definitely something." came the reply.

"How do you know my name?" the man asked.

"From your bank card in your wallet, Paul Turner." the clown mask responded. "My name is Ray Russell."

"Well now we are acquainted how about letting me the fuck out of here?" Paul pleaded.

"Paul, Paul, Paul. All in good time. I told you before that you will go and as you have so eloquently put it, you will indeed get the fuck out of here." Russell replied in a dramatic tone.

"Help! Help!" Paul yelled.

"Ha ha ha, scream, yell, shout as loud as you want Paul. Nobody will hear. Nobody will come." Russell mocked.

Paul started to cry. "What is this shit? I never done anything to you."

"My dear Paul, nobody does anything to anyone. It is not personal. I would say it is more random, more down to chance, luck and fortune. For you though it is bad luck and misfortune."

"What the hell?" Paul blubbed.

"Let me explain for you Paul. You are chained to the toilet. You cannot get off the toilet and you are completely naked. The drains are blocked up which means you have a big problem." Russell began.

Paul Turner struggled to move his hands but it was pointless, he also tried to stand but it was impossible.

Russell continued.

"Not only is the toilet blocked but swimming around in the water are some piranha fish. When I flush the toilet the blocked drains wont let the water out. What will happen is that the blockage will cause the water level to rise and in turn the little fishes will come snap, snap, snappy snapping!"

Paul Turner could realise the horror of what he was hearing. His testicles and penis were of course dangling down underneath him.

"You sick fucking bastard!" Paul gasped.

"My health is not in question Paul." Russell said sarcastically. "What will happen is the toilet water will overflow and the fish will have a snack. Given that they have not eaten for about two weeks they probably are hungry."

Paul shook his head and screamed. As he had been informed. Nobody did hear him and nobody was going to come to his rescue.

"Speaking of hunger Paul. How about something to eat for you?" Russell asked.

Paul looked at the masked man in disbelief.

"Maybe not, would be a waste of good food anyhow!" Russell goaded back.

Moving quickly, Ray Russell reached for the toilet handle and pulled it down. The flushing sound was heard but nothing was being flushed away. The toilet made a gurgle sound and the water level began to rise. Paul Turner screamed and shouted for mercy,

Ray Russell pumped the lever again and the water level rose and rose up to the top of the bowl and seeped out slightly over the toilet seat. Paul Turner continued to scream.

As the water rose the piranha were greeted by Paul Turner's scrotum dangling invitingly. One of the piranha took a bite and the razor sharp teeth nicked the skin. This caused drops of blood to turn the fetid toilet water crimson. In a frenzy the other piranha were drawn to the source and began to manically munch away.

Paul Turner let out a high pitched scream and his eyes watered. He could feel his testicles being torn apart by lots of tiny razor sharp teeth. The fish were gorging themselves and bits of skin, nerves and veins were shredded. Some of these seeped out of the side of the toilet bowel and covered the bathroom floor in a sea of bloody red mess.

The stomach of Paul Turner decided now was the time to empty its contents. Onto the floor he vomited, bits of bile and sick dribbled down his chin. Below him the piranha were feasting. The attack on his testicles was now focused onto his penis and anus. One of the piranha attacked the head and sliced into the urethra. Paul Tuner puked once more and gargled screams. The pain was like nothing you could imagine. He was being eaten alive through the most delicate area of his body. The man in the clown mask stood motionless and just watched.

The piranha had now breached the perineum, they were now eating their way into the by obturator internus muscle. The anal canal was their next destination. Paul Turner had now stopped puking and shouting for help. The loss of blood and trauma wounds were taking their toll. He began to cough blood up. Sticky red mucus that he limply tried to spit out. The fish had caused and continued to cause fatal wounding. His heart could not take the sheer strain of the situation and he began to cardiac arrest.

Paul Turner was moments away from death. The natural defences of the body had sprung into action. The kindest and most merciful thing that could happen to him was that he died. Death coming soon would be an end to the suffering. His eyes began to mist over. Through blurry eyes he could make out the man in the clown mask. Ray Russell was his name. He was one sick twisted bastard. Paul Turner could now see and feel nothing.

"I said I would let you go Paul." Russell said mockingly.,

Paul Turner would never know this but he had crossed paths with Ray Russell a few weeks earlier. Paul had been out for the evening and was driving home from a friends house. As he was driving passed Byron Park he had spotted the silver Ford approaching the mini roundabout. Paul had slowed to give way but the driver had hesitated and as Paul was impatient he was about to pull away. The driver of the other car did so at the same time. Both vehicles then had to slam on their brakes to avoid a collision. Paul had pressed the button to activate the electric window and it lowered.

"You stupid wanker!" he yelled at the motorist. "fucking clown."

The other driver raised his hands and shrugged his shoulders. Paul Turner had then given the driver the V sign and then roared off towards his house. He had not noticed that the other driver had followed him at a distance. He had also failed to notice the driver had been tailing him for a week now and would have had a good idea of his movements.


End file.
